


Confessions Of A Midnight Barber

by MotherOfSnakes



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, British Comedy, Comedy, Gay, Humour, M/M, Male Slash, Mutual Pining, Non-Consensual Haircuts, Oral Sex, Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 09:09:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11250030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherOfSnakes/pseuds/MotherOfSnakes
Summary: Vince decides Howard needs a visit from The Midnight Barber, but ends up giving him more than a hair-cut.





	Confessions Of A Midnight Barber

 Vince watched as Howard pottered about, getting ready for bed. He wore brown pyjamas with a pattern of trumpets on them. Vince thought they were vile. Glancing over to the mirror, he admired his own bedtime attire – shiny purple with diamante trim. He'd put the diamantes on himself.

 Howard's hair was getting long again, Vince noticed. Perhaps it was time for the Midnight Barber to pay him another visit. Vince smiled to himself at the thought. He found it amusing, and also strangely touching, that Howard had no idea of how Vince took care of him in his sleep. He was so oblivious, so trusting. Vince could do anything to him while he slept and he'd never know or even suspect. That gave Vince a certain feeling of power that he enjoyed. And, of course, he loved to style people's hair, whether they wanted it styled, or even knew about it, or not.

 "Night, Vince," called Howard as he retreated into his bedroom.

 "Night, Howard," Vince called back, smirking behind his hand.

 He spent the next couple of hours getting all his hair cutting and styling paraphernalia ready, then went to check if Howard was asleep. He listened outside the door to Howard's slow, steady breathing and decided it was safe to take a peek. He cracked the door open and peered through. Sure enough, Howard was fast asleep, sprawled on his back. Perfect.

 Vince tiptoed into the room and sat down next to Howard on the bed. Howard did not stir. Carefully, Vince pulled back the covers and tucked his arms under Howard's shoulders, lifting him up into a sitting position, and propped him up against the headboard. Howard mumbled something and Vince froze, wondering if he'd woken him, but he was only dreaming – his head lolled to the side and he started to snore as soon as Vince let him go.

 Vince grabbed his scissors and comb and climbed onto the bed. Straddling Howard, he leaned forward and began snipping at his friend's unruly hair. Howard stirred beneath him, and Vince suddenly felt something pressing against his thigh. He looked down. There was a distinct bulge in the crotch of Howard's pyjama bottoms.

 "Someone's having sweet dreams," whispered Vince in amusement. He continued to stare, for some reason finding it hard to tear his gaze away from Howard's groin. If the size of the bulge was anything to go by, Howard was pretty well-endowed. Vince wondered how big he was. He was beginning to feel somewhat aroused himself, though he tried to ignore that – he always denied his attraction to Howard, even to himself.

 Before he really knew what he was doing, Vince reached out and ran his hand over Howard's erection, feeling the hardness beneath the fabric. Howard stirred again, and murmured: "Vince."

 Vince snatched his hand back, terrified that Howard was waking up. He'd be mad enough if he caught Vince cutting his hair – if he woke up with Vince's hand on his cock, God knows what chaos would ensue. But Howard didn't move or open his eyes, and Vince slowly relaxed as he realized he was simply talking in his sleep. He went back to cutting Howard's hair, but he couldn't tear his thoughts away from the contents of Howard's pyjama bottoms.

 The hair-cut complete, he put away his equipment and continued admiring what he could see of Howard's equipment. Would it be so bad to take a closer look? Howard was deeply asleep, he'd never know. Vince told himself he just wanted to compare Howard's size to his own, just to reassure himself that he was within the normal range and Howard wasn't some sort of donkey-man. It was just ordinary, healthy curiosity, that was all. There was absolutely no other reason why he wanted to see Howard's cock. None at all.

 Shuffling back a bit, Vince took hold of the waistband of Howard's pyjama bottoms and started to ease them down around his hips. There was no response. Encouraged, Vince pulled them down further, exposing the object of his desire. No, not desire, curiosity, he reminded himself. Yes, that was it. Nothing more.

 Howard's erect cock was certainly large – bigger than Vince's, he noted – but he wasn't freakishly huge as Vince had feared (hoped?). Well, that was all cleared up then. Now he could just put Howard's pyjamas back on and leave the room … but what he found himself doing instead was reaching out to touch what was on display before him, curling his fingers around Howard's shaft and sliding his hand up and down.

 Howard let out a soft moan and murmured: "Vince!" again, a little louder than before. This time, though the thought of being caught like this still frightened him, the sound of Howard saying his name while his hand was on his cock turned Vince on. Perhaps Howard was dreaming about him? Perhaps it was dream-Vince that had made Howard so hard? Perhaps Howard, like Vince, spent his days suppressing forbidden thoughts about his best friend, thoughts that transformed themselves into erotic dreams at night? Could it be?

 Vince's hand moved faster, and his free hand crept into his own pyjama bottoms to stroke his own achingly hard cock. Maybe, he thought, he could make Howard's dreams even sweeter. Abandoning all pretences and throwing caution to the winds, Vince crouched over Howard and ran his tongue all the way along his cock. Howard moaned again, and Vince wondered if he was subconsciously enjoying this. Was it possible to make someone come while they were unaware of what you were doing? Did they need to be aware of the pleasure, or did the body simply respond to stimulation? There was one way to find out ...

 Vince took the head of Howard's cock awkwardly in his mouth and sucked on it. When nothing terrible happened, he slid his lips further down, taking more of Howard's length into his mouth. Then he began sucking in earnest, bobbing his head up and down, touching himself all the time. Deep down, he'd wanted to do this for so long, but he'd never dared to even think about it before. The image had come to him sometimes when he was on the verge of climax, but he always pushed it away and pretended it had never happened as soon as he'd ejaculated. He just couldn't admit to himself that he was desperately attracted to Howard – not until now, at least. It was a bit difficult to pretend, even to yourself, that you didn't fancy someone when you were busily sucking their cock.

 Howard moved slightly beneath him, his hips starting to buck upwards towards Vince, pushing himself further into Vince's mouth. Vince took as much as he could, letting the tip of Howard's cock touch the back of his throat. "Mmm," Howard moaned sleepily. "Oh ... Vince ..."

 Vince trembled at the sound of his name. Howard had to be having pleasant dreams about him. Perhaps the sensation of what he was doing was somehow filtering through into Howard's sleeping mind.

 "Vince," said Howard again. Not so sleepily. "Vince!" He stirred more wakefully, his legs stretching out and his arms reaching down to feel about near his crotch. Vince continued what he was doing, confident that Howard was still asleep. He didn't see Howard's eyes snap open as his hands encountered Vince's mane of hair, but he did hear the sharp intake of breath from above him and feel every muscle in Howard's body go rigid. He froze, not daring to look up at his friend. Then, in what was quite clearly a wide-awake voice, Howard said: "Vince?" He sounded part puzzled, part amazed, part ... delighted?

 Vince squeezed his eyes shut and tried to will himself to disappear. Howard spoke again, more aware of what was happening, more afraid, more self-conscious: "Vince! What ... what are you doing?"

 Very slowly, Vince let Howard's cock slip out of his mouth and sat up. He couldn't meet Howard's eyes as he said: "I was ... um ... I was giving you a hair-cut. You never sort your hair out, Howard, I have to do it for you and you'd never let me if you were awake. They call me the Midnight Barber ..." He was babbling, he knew, but if he was talking it meant Howard wasn't – wasn't shouting, wasn't judging, wasn't declaring he wanted nothing more to do with him.

 "Hair-cut?" Howard broke in. He sounded amused, now. "That's the strangest way of giving someone a hair-cut I've ever seen, little man."

 Vince risked a glance up at his face. Howard was smiling broadly. Vince felt himself blushing. "I'm really sorry, Howard," he blurted out. "I _was_ giving you a hair-cut, honest, but then I ... I ... well, you got a hard-on and I ... I just couldn't help myself. I'm really sorry. Really, really sorry."

 "Don't be sorry," said Howard quietly, his fingers brushing Vince's hair back out of his face. "Do you know why I had a hard-on? It was because I was dreaming about you, imagining you doing ... well, pretty much what you _were_ doing."

 "You were?" said Vince in astonishment.

 It was Howard's turn not to meet his eyes. He looked away uncomfortably. "Yeah," he admitted, "and it's not the first time, either. I've thought about you and me ... like that ... for ages. Dreamed about it, wished for it. But I never thought ... never ..." He trailed off.

 "You never thought I'd actually do it?" Vince finished for him. "You never thought I might be thinking exactly the same thing?"

 Howard shook his head, and finally looked at Vince again. "But you were." It wasn't a question.

 "Yes," Vince agreed. "At least, I wanted you, but I tried to tell myself I didn't because I couldn't believe you would want me and I couldn't bear the thought of you rejecting me and of losing our friendship. So I just pretended to you, and myself, that I didn't feel ... those things. But then tonight ..."

 "Yes," Howard interrupted, his voice suddenly full of heat and lust. "Tonight. Are you going to finish what you started?"

 Vince smiled and ran his fingers lightly over Howard's still erect cock. "Well," he said playfully, "that depends. Are you going to ask nicely?"

 "I'll say please, if you want me to," said Howard, shyly.

 "Go on, then."

 "Please, Vince."

 "You'll have to do better than that," said Vince wickedly. He was really getting into the spirit of this game. "You have to tell me what you want me to do."

 "I want you to do ... what you were doing before," said Howard, squirming with discomfort at having to say these words.

 "And that was ...?"

 "Oh, alright!" Howard burst out, exasperated and embarrassed but more aroused than he'd ever been in his life. "I want you to suck my cock, okay?"

 "What's the magic word?"

 "Please," said Howard through gritted teeth. "Please suck my cock, Vince."

 "With pleasure," said Vince, grinning, and went back to his task eagerly, enclosing Howard's cock with his mouth. Howard groaned as he sucked and licked – now that he was awake and able to fully appreciate what was happening, it didn't take long. With a gasp that might have been Vince's name, his cock erupted, coating Vince's tongue with sticky warmth. Vince swallowed willingly, looking up at Howard and savouring the expression of pure bliss on his face.

 "Wow," breathed Howard. "That was amazing, Vince."

 "Aren't you going to thank me properly?" asked Vince cheekily.

 "Thank you, Vince," said Howard with exaggerated politeness.

 "That wasn't exactly what I meant," Vince said.

 "Oh? What did you mean?"

 For answer, Vince pulled down his pyjama bottoms, revealing his own throbbing erection. Howard stared at it for a couple of seconds before a slow smile spread across his face. "Oh," he said, "I see. But I'm afraid you're going to have to ask nicely, little man ..."


End file.
